The Pirate and I hadn't gone out in a while; he'd been out of town, my weekends had been booking up a couple weeks in advance, the usual. Because of that, when we discovered we were both free on Friday we decided to go out, even though we didn't have any specific ideas of what we would do. Friday during the day we texted ideas back and forth, finally setting on seeing a band at a club downtown. Imagine my surprise when I saw on McCool's facebook page that he was also planning to attend the same show! I sent him an instant message that I would also be there, and that we should find each other and say hi. After all, it's been three months since our one date, and everything since has been over the internet.
As usual, the Pirate was late in meeting for dinner. I'm beginning to think I should just plan to be 20 minutes late whenever I go out with him, as then maybe we'll arrive at the same time. Regardless, we had fun catching up about what had happened in our lives in the last month. I'd lost a boyfriend and a girlfriend, and gained a different boyfriend; he'd gone on two trips out of town, bought a new bike, and planned his next tattoo that he was actually going to get the following morning.
When we walked over to the bar/club where the show was, we discovered that neither of us had enough cash for the door, and the only ATM was actually inside the club! So we pooled our funds to pay for his, so he could go to the ATM and come back with some for mine. As he walked in, though, the bouncer looked at me and said “you can just go in if you want.”
“Are you sure??” I asked incredulously. I'm not used to being the girl that gets special treatment by the bouncer (unless maybe it's the Blues Man). It's pretty neat!
The Pirate got us drinks and we stood to watch the show. The band was beyond amazing, and I was enthralled. Even so, I was looking around to try and spot McCool. Finally I found him standing with a group behind us on some stairs. I texted him “Ha! I found you!” “What? Where?” he replied.
Now, lest you think I was totally rude for texting one guy while on a date with another guy, let me offer up a pitiful excuse. The Pirate and McCool both work in the same industry, though different aspects. So I was actually interested in introducing them, if for no other reason than potential networking. Is that a good enough reason? Probably not. Oh well.
McCool and I texted a few more times until he saw me checking my phone and thus figured out it was me. We waved, but I stayed with the Pirate until he needed to go get more drinks, and then I walked back with him to McCool's group. I introduced them, and stood chatting while the Pirate went to the bar. McCool's friends were really nice, and an interesting mix of gothy rock nerds. Just how I like them. The Pirate also hit it off with the group, and when the show was over suggested we all go do karaoke. The Pirate wanting to do karaoke- shocking, I know.
At the karaoke bar, McCool and I kept flirting through texts, even though the Pirate and I were having fun together. Finally towards the end of the night, I texted McCool “this could be you, you know. You know what you have to do.”
“What's that?” he asked.
“Pick a date.”
“April 9.”
Ah, what a clever boy. April 9 was that night. “You want me to go home with you tonight?” I clarified.
He just winked.
Of course I wasn't going to leave the date I was actually on to go home with McCool, but the idea was tempting. The Pirate and I left not long after, and McCool and I shared two very long hugs goodbye. I told him I expected an invite the next time he went out with his friends, and he said he'd keep me updated.
By that point, I had tons of pent-up sexual tension, so thankfully I had someone to help me work them out. The Pirate took me upstairs, bent me over his bed, and had his way with me. It was sweaty, rough, and totally hot. Falling asleep, I was glad my morals hadn't been compromised by leaving with McCool instead. There would hopefully be another chance for that.
Showing posts with label the Pirate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the Pirate. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Saturday- Of Pirates and Backrubs
Last night was my second date with the Pirate. I must admit, it started off much better than our first.
After messaging him on the dating site (he actually just told me last night that the fact I messaged him first was a huge turn-on), we made plans to go bar-hopping so he could show me some of his favorite places around his neighborhood. We were supposed to meet at 8 at the first bar, but I realized a few minutes before that I was going to be late because of the hunt for parking. So, like any good date should, I texted him that I was nearby and would be there shortly.
No response.
I got to the bar and had a look around, to see if I could recognize him from his pictures. I usually am pretty good about it, but you never know. I didn't see him, so I tried giving him a call.
No answer.
At this point, it was 8:10. I fired off a text to a couple friends asking “How long do I wait before it's considered being stood up?” Their replies varied from 15 minutes to an hour. I figured I'd give him the benefit of the doubt and grab myself a drink while I waited.
At 8:20 I finally got a text from him- “10 minutes away.” Okay then. I still don't know what took him so long- I didn't feel like grilling him after he showed up- but it definitely wasn't a good first impression.
Thankfully for him, the night got better. We hit three different bars and had a great time, when he suggested karaoke. Apparently he's a huge karaoke fanatic, and I'm not half bad myself, so we went to this little dive bar that I didn't even catch the name of. It was so much fun! There was an old woman there named Lois who had a bright yellow beehive and about 4 teeth. It was her birthday, and so we all sang to her and she told us she was 39. That's what I love about true dive bars; there is never a shortage of interesting characters. I was no condition to drive after karaoke (come on, would you sing karaoke sober? Me neither) so we went back to his place and I crashed on the couch. Contrary to what some may believe, I rarely put out on the first date. Not that there aren't exceptions made for extraordinary circumstances, mind you.
So last night, the Pirate was driving back from a city a couple hours away where his tattoo artist is located. The tattoos are what inspired his name- they're all nautical and pirate themed. They're really neat and well done- he's got most of one sleeve, the beginnings of the other, a full chest piece, and his upper back. While I can't stand chest tattoos on women- why would someone do that to beautiful breasts??- they can look really good on the right guy. He's one of those guys. We ate dinner at a restaurant/bar near his house, and then decided to head back to his place. I was already a little tipsy before we met up, and I had another drink with dinner, so I was feeling good. I'm a total lightweight when it comes to alcohol; a true two-drink drunk.
While we were hanging out and listening to music, he offered me a backrub. I'm no fool, I won't turn down a massage! Of course you can't get a decent backrub with clothing in the way, so that had to go. And not surprisingly, a good backrub can lead to a good frontrub, if you know what I'm saying. And how.
There is nothing hotter than a man who growls during sex. We're not talking like creepy howl-at-the-moon growling, just that low, deep sound of rampant desire. It's the dominant equivalent of feeling a woman melt in your arms- pure, hungry, and satisfying. Wow, did it suddenly get hotter in here? I think I need a cool shower.
There was a repeat performance in the morning.
When we finally stumbled out of bed several hours after waking up, he got ready to go for a run and I had to come back home to do some homework. Such is the life of a grad student, I suppose! As my roommate likes to tease me, it's sometimes easy to forget that I'm a student with all the running around I do. It's all about balance, though. Work hard, play hard, right? Right.
After messaging him on the dating site (he actually just told me last night that the fact I messaged him first was a huge turn-on), we made plans to go bar-hopping so he could show me some of his favorite places around his neighborhood. We were supposed to meet at 8 at the first bar, but I realized a few minutes before that I was going to be late because of the hunt for parking. So, like any good date should, I texted him that I was nearby and would be there shortly.
No response.
I got to the bar and had a look around, to see if I could recognize him from his pictures. I usually am pretty good about it, but you never know. I didn't see him, so I tried giving him a call.
No answer.
At this point, it was 8:10. I fired off a text to a couple friends asking “How long do I wait before it's considered being stood up?” Their replies varied from 15 minutes to an hour. I figured I'd give him the benefit of the doubt and grab myself a drink while I waited.
At 8:20 I finally got a text from him- “10 minutes away.” Okay then. I still don't know what took him so long- I didn't feel like grilling him after he showed up- but it definitely wasn't a good first impression.
Thankfully for him, the night got better. We hit three different bars and had a great time, when he suggested karaoke. Apparently he's a huge karaoke fanatic, and I'm not half bad myself, so we went to this little dive bar that I didn't even catch the name of. It was so much fun! There was an old woman there named Lois who had a bright yellow beehive and about 4 teeth. It was her birthday, and so we all sang to her and she told us she was 39. That's what I love about true dive bars; there is never a shortage of interesting characters. I was no condition to drive after karaoke (come on, would you sing karaoke sober? Me neither) so we went back to his place and I crashed on the couch. Contrary to what some may believe, I rarely put out on the first date. Not that there aren't exceptions made for extraordinary circumstances, mind you.
So last night, the Pirate was driving back from a city a couple hours away where his tattoo artist is located. The tattoos are what inspired his name- they're all nautical and pirate themed. They're really neat and well done- he's got most of one sleeve, the beginnings of the other, a full chest piece, and his upper back. While I can't stand chest tattoos on women- why would someone do that to beautiful breasts??- they can look really good on the right guy. He's one of those guys. We ate dinner at a restaurant/bar near his house, and then decided to head back to his place. I was already a little tipsy before we met up, and I had another drink with dinner, so I was feeling good. I'm a total lightweight when it comes to alcohol; a true two-drink drunk.
While we were hanging out and listening to music, he offered me a backrub. I'm no fool, I won't turn down a massage! Of course you can't get a decent backrub with clothing in the way, so that had to go. And not surprisingly, a good backrub can lead to a good frontrub, if you know what I'm saying. And how.
There is nothing hotter than a man who growls during sex. We're not talking like creepy howl-at-the-moon growling, just that low, deep sound of rampant desire. It's the dominant equivalent of feeling a woman melt in your arms- pure, hungry, and satisfying. Wow, did it suddenly get hotter in here? I think I need a cool shower.
There was a repeat performance in the morning.
When we finally stumbled out of bed several hours after waking up, he got ready to go for a run and I had to come back home to do some homework. Such is the life of a grad student, I suppose! As my roommate likes to tease me, it's sometimes easy to forget that I'm a student with all the running around I do. It's all about balance, though. Work hard, play hard, right? Right.
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